Never, Someday, Always
by Winddragon Eternal
Summary: There were once three mouse brothers who crossed a deadly river and were rewarded with gifts unlike any other. If you think you know this story, be prepared to read it a different way - Mouse Guard style!


_Hi! If you're reading this, this is my first attempt at a Mouse Guard one-shot. All characters are mice, save for one._

_This is a retelling of another story - but to tell you now would only spoil the surprise. I will mention the source I adapted later, but for now, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing. Have fun!  
_

* * *

_**Never, Someday, Always**_

There once lived three mice – brothers sworn by blood, and members of the fearless Mouse Guard.

Such was their fame amongst the other Guardsmice, as the three brothers worked their best as a team: one with incredible knowledge of swordplay, another whose strength lay in his wisdom, and the third with a heart filled in equal amounts of kindness and courage.

But one day, the brothers were caught and arrested by the very Guard they served – framed for a murder they did not commit. The punishment for any mouse found guilty was death, but as the brothers still held favor within the court, they were instead sentenced to live out the rest of their lives in exile.

With no mice willing to help them, the three brothers were driven out of town, with only the cloaks on their backs as a painful reminder of the brotherhood they swore to uphold and protect.

For days they wandered, scavenging on scraps in the forest and living amongst the wild elements until they reached a field of grassy plains.

The first brother, a brown-furred mouse with a fiery red cloak, thumped his paws to the ground and screamed at the heavens. "Fangs and flying fur! I'll gut the traitorous fox-heart who did this to us, I swear it!"

The second brother, grey-furred with a cloak of weathered blue, approached the enraged mouse on bended knees and laid a reassuring paw.

"Patience, dear brother. We will found out who's responsible for our fates, but we cannot do so in our given situation. We need time."

The third brother said nothing, but merely helped his brothers back on their feet and they continued their journey in silence.

* * *

Eventually, the three mice came to the edge of a river, where the raging currents proved too treacherous and far for any mouse to swim.

"Now, how do we get across?" asked the first brother.

The second brother glanced around, and spotted an old rusty sword lying in the grass nearby. "I have an idea," he said.

Following his instructions, the three brothers took turns to cut down as many small trees they could find. They made a raft – big enough to hold all of them – and got on board to cross the river.

It was a rough and dangerous ride, and even the sword was lost in the process. But they made it to the other side of the banks, safe and sound.

Before they could catch their breaths, however, a huge shadow leapt forward to block their path.

A wolf, blacker than the night with stars in its pelt, and eyes as red as glowing coals, stood before the tired mice.

_**From the sight of your cloaks, you three must belong to the famous Mouse Guard**_, the wolf growled._** Yet, wanderers such as myself cannot be choosers. And I have missed several meals in a row.**_

The first brother struggled to his feet, staring down the wolf with burning resolution. "If you think we're going down without a fight, think again!"

_**You have no weapons, and you can barely stand. Why prolong your suffering when you can ask for a quicker death?**_ the wolf went on.

"Then you must be mistaken. It is not what we fight, but what we fight _for_," said the youngest brother. For that was the creed by which all Guardsmice live by.

At first, the wolf blinked in surprise. Then its growls turned into that of amusement, as it rolled onto its back laughing, before sitting up again with great dignity.

_**You are the first woodlanders to stand up to me! I admire your courage, little ones. For that, I will not only spare you your lives, but I can grant you any gift you desire.**_

"How do we know this isn't some trick?" asked the second brother.

The wolf lowered his head. _**Each of you will get what you desire most. You have my word.**_

The eldest brother was the first to step up.

"My brothers and I were betrayed by our own Guard. For this injustice, I seek our vengeance. I seek a weapon to replace the one I lost – a weapon worthy for the best of the Guard!"

So the wolf went over to a nearby tree and pulled forth a sword embedded in its trunk. The brown-furred mouse took it from the wolf's jaws, admiring the craftsmanship of its hilt and silver blade.

_**This sword has been buried here for centuries. If you are as worthy of the best as you said, then with this sword, you shall be able to defeat any mouse in combat.**_

Next, the wolf approached the second brother, the grey-furred mouse with his weathered blue cloak.

"In my service as a Guard, I have lost too many I cared – both friend and foe alike. But nothing hurts more than to lose the ones I love. If only I can see them again… to hear them one more time…"

So the wolf went down to the river, and picked up a stone with a hole in its center.

_**Look through the hole in this stone, **_said the wolf, _**and you will be able to call forth spirits from the worlds of beyond. **_

Then the wolf turned to the youngest mouse. _**And what do you seek, little redfur?**_

"I am but a humble mouse, neither stronger nor wiser than my brothers. I fear that no matter where we go, someone will find us. All I ask is for something that can allow me to leave this place without ever being spotted – not by mice nor any other creature in this world."

So the wolf bit its own leg, tearing out a clump of its starry pelt, which it fashioned into a cloak.

"Forgive me," said the red-furred mouse. "I would gladly accept any gift of yours, but not this. For I already have a cloak of my own."

_**It is yours to earn, little redfur. All three of you have already bested me, so I will not think differently of you. Once a Guardsmouse, always a Guardsmouse**_**. **

And so it was that with a heavy heart, the youngest brother left his cloak behind in exchange for the starry pelt.

Then the wolf stood aside and let the three mice pass, which they did, in awe of their newfound gifts.

They journeyed together for a while before eventually parting ways, each wondering what the future held in store for them.

* * *

The first brother traveled for weeks, until at last he came to a tavern. He sat down to nurse his wearies with a drink and the promise of a much-earned rest.

Then, lo and behold, sitting in a far corner, he recognized his commanding officer and captain – the very mouse who had accused and betrayed him and his brothers into exile.

Blinded with hate, he proceeded to insult the captain from across the tavern, until the latter – drunk beyond all senses – brandished his sword to challenge his foe.

"Have you no sense? Do you know who I am?" yelled the captain.

The brownfur lunged forward. "Some dead mouse!"

They engaged in a deadly duel, clashing sword against sword. But whether it was by the first brother's skills of swordplay, or the gift that the wolf had bestowed upon him, the battle was soon over, and the captain collapsed to the ground – bloodied as he breathed his last.

As the brownfur towered over his fallen opponent, sated with revenge, he realized the power the sword held, and the potential that now lay before him.

He could take his captain's place and command the Guard. He could conquer towns, raid kingdoms and make himself the lord of all woodlanders!

And yet, for all that knowledge, he did not feel better at all.

He retreated to an inn, drunk and sorrow-laden.

That night, another mouse stole into the inn and crept into the brownfur's room. He glanced at the sword lying by the bedside, and grabbed hold of it – but not before the sleeping mouse opened his eyes.

"Who goes there? Stop, thief!"

They writhed and tussled on the ground, each fighting to get the upper hand. In the end, the mysterious mouse had pinned the brownfur to the ground, holding the latter's own sword against his neck.

"I have come to avenge the mouse you killed. He was my father! Why did you do it?"

Upon realizing who his attacker was, the brownfur's eyes glistened with regret. "It was wrong of me – I know it now. I only wish I could take back what I did. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

He felt the cold edge of his sword kiss the length of his throat, followed by a thrust to the heart.

"I will never forgive you," came the reply.

The last thing he remembered was the starry sky at his window; and it slowly opened up before him, taking the shape of a wolf that swallowed him up in its jaws.

* * *

Meanwhile, the second brother found his way back to his childhood home. Upon entering his room, he took the stone with the hole in its center, turned it thrice in paw and held it up against his eye.

At first, he saw nothing. Then the shade of a familiar figure filled the empty spaces.

"Joanna?" he asked. "Is that you?" For this was the mousemaid he loved more than life itself, his sweetheart who he secretly longed to marry before her untimely passing.

She nodded, opening her arms to welcome him once more.

He ran to embrace his beloved, but found he could not do so, as she passed through him like mist.

Everyday, he watched through the stone as Joanna wandered along the cliffs near his home, dancing to the winds and calling out for him.

She was still, after all, a shade from beyond the grave. So she could not eat, nor touch him, nor give him the thing he longed for most – a kiss.

And every time he asked if they could truly be together again, she would always answer with a sad smile:

"Someday, my love. Not today, but soon…"

At last, tormented by grief, he knew exactly what to do.

And so the second brother walked to the edge of the cliffs. With his beloved by his side, he jumped, welcoming the hard, pounding rocks that awaited him below.

Instead, he fell into a swath of fur – blacker than the night and filled with stars.

* * *

With two of the brothers now in its grasp, the wolf began to search for the third mouse brother – the final piece to complete its collection.

But as the days turned to months, and months turned to years, the wolf could not find any trace of the little redfur – it was as if he vanished from the face of the earth! Nor did it even think to look in the grass where a tiny patch of stars could possibly live amongst the woodlanders…

* * *

"And to this day, nobody knows if he still exists," the old mouse finished his tale.

The little mouse sat up in his bed, squeaking with joy. "I want to hear it again, Grandpa! One more time, please?"

"Not tonight, my child. But your father's coming to tuck you in, so maybe you could ask him. I've told this story to him many times when he was your age too."

Seeing the slight disappointment in his grandson's eyes, the old mouse couldn't help but smile. "I almost forgot; I have something for you."

He reached under the bed and fished out a soft bundle, which he handed to his grandson.

"It's just like the cloak from your story, Grandpa! Thank you!"

The old mouse chuckled as the little one put on the cloak, bouncing up and down on his bed while fighting imaginary enemies. "Why, it certainly fits! You'll be the greatest Guardsmouse the woods will ever know. Just remember, it is not what you fight…"

"But what you fight _for_," they finished together, and he kissed his grandson goodnight.

* * *

He still takes his evening walks; slower than usual, but it allows him to savour the smells of the rain-washed air.

Tonight, however, there was something else; a scent he hadn't picked up in a long time – since his youth, when he had more red in his fur. He nodded, the memories returning along with the sprightly bounds in his steps.

Once more, he was greeted by a figure that stood in his path, darker than the night with a pelt filled of stars.

_**I see you still weave your stories just as well as you did with your sword.**_

"And I see that patch hasn't grown back yet," said the mouse, pointing to the wolf's front leg.

They both laughed heartily.

_**It has been a while since I last saw you, redfur.**_

"Aye, it has. It's time to go now, isn't it?"

The wolf nodded, bowing as it dropped into a crouching position. _**I can offer you one more adventure, even if you no longer belong to the Guard anymore.**_

"Oh… I don't know if I can do that again. I'm tired, and my bones aren't what they used to be.

_**I understand. But as I told you before, you will always have my word. And this time, you will feel nothing when it happens. **_

As the old mouse came forward, he could see that the wolf's eyes were no longer the same glowing red, but blue and gentle like the moon. The wolf unfolded its paw.

_**A gift, for old times sake.**_

Tears came to his eyes as he held his Guard cloak close to his chest – still green and fresh as a leaf in spring. "You kept it all these years?"

_**Always, my old friend. Always.**_

And so, with the cloak on the old mouse's back, the wolf carried him to the heavens above, to be made as one amongst the shining stars.

_**The End  
**_

* * *

_If you haven't guessed by now, this is my retelling of _The Tale of the Three Brothers. _The original story belongs to J.K. Rowling, so I don't own anything, except the characters in this fanfic._

_Personally, I think this one-shot works best as a graphic novel, given the nature of the _Mouse Guard_ series. But to draw it out will take a very long while, so I decided this will have to do for now. Maybe I will draw it... someday. :)_

_Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll give me your feedback. Until then, see you!_

_~ Wind_


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